Help appreciated, not sought after
by Quacked Lurker
Summary: What makes a great team?  Going out of one's way to help a friend or associate, even if one doesn't fully understand why the extra arms are appreciated.   A well intentioned 'job' creates more problems than it solves, and not all 'suggestions' are welcome


_*Companion Piece to 'Artists are Temperamental'. No need to read that one to understand this one._

**Disclaimer: I not Hasbro or Takara. Look elsewhere for 'CANNON' Transformers entertainment.**

Spike, a teenage human boy, looked up when a fleeting shadow passed over him. 'Hey, Sides, where's Sunny?"

The red Lamborghini spun around, once, twice, before spying the kid lying on the grass. "Hmm? Oh, he's inside pouting."

Concerned, Spike sat up. "Why?"

Sideswipe shrugged, half-heartedly. "Nothing major. Just, somebody defaced a wall." His tone suggested that the 'defaced wall' was a major offense, despite the words spoken.

Spike decided to examine the human sized buckets held protectively in Side's arms. "Where did you get those?"

Sideswipe looked at the packages in his arms. "These?" he acted surprised. "Ah, one of the home-improvement stores."

Spike threw up his hands. "You stole them."

"Stole? Stole is such a harsh word. I'm mearly borrowing them for the moment. They'll be returned.

Spike snorted. "You can't resell Paint Stripper. Nor will the store accept used paint brushes or rollers." He sighed, stepping next-to the almost-twenty foot tall robot. "I'll help clean up."

Sideswipe was shocked. "Ya' sure? You can't see the damage, and most kids don't like doing chores."

Spike looked up and stared into the Navy-blue optics. "Yeah, well, if I don't help, my dad will see you using human supplies, and wonder how you paid for them."

Sideswipe flinched. "Ah, yeah, don't want Sparkplug telling us again that 'Energon cannot be used for barter or trade' or Optimus Prime volunteering us for security detail to pay for the items taken and used by ill-informed Autobots."

Spike laughed as the red robotic guardian adopted Optimus Prime's regal tone and words when talking with irate human authority. He cut off abruptly, stared at the taller individual. "You were planning on watching the supplies, weren't you?"

Sideswipe shrugged, unconcerned. "Some of the hardware stores and companies have had an increase in 'suspicious usage' and theft. Figured might as well catch a thief before he moves onto bigger things, such as cars and trucks."

Spike sighed, shook his head, and walked beside the Cybertronian as he headed towards the Ark.

The human and Transformer walked the well-traveled pathway into the Main Ark entrance. Spike looked around when Sidewsipe put the one-gallon canisters right by the door. "Sides, where's the damage?"

Sideswipe glanced up from his ineffectual efforts at opening a can without crushing the sides or otherwise bending the metal can out of shape. "First four and five feed up from the ground, a quarter of the way down the hall."

Spike blinked, stepped next to the wall, and placed his hand on it. "Ew." He said as he pulled his hand away. "Sticky." The hand, normally clean, was speckled with orange paint. He glanced at the kneeling robot. "Let me guess, it clashes with the décor." Spike accepted the cloth Sideswipe held out.

Sideswipe sighed. "Yes."

"Well, taking it off while it is still wet will be easier." Spike pulled out a switchblade and jammed a broken blade in the crack between the lid and container. "Shouldn't we dilute this so it doesn't harm the paint underneath?"

Sideswipe smiled. "Cybertron paint is unaffected by earth-made supplies. We'll be fine as long as the human paint is taken off before the next shift change." He paused, considering. "Or Red sees the wall."

More sighs. Spike poured the 'stripper' into plastic pans and dipped the brush in the contained puddle of liquid. When Sideswipe picked up a canister to throw on the wall, Spike managed to convince the notorious prankster that just dumping the paint-removing liquid on the biggest splotches would not work. He said that throwing liquid on the offending paint would streak the wall, leave puddles on the floor, and require a whole lot more supplies than what Sideswipe brought with him. Plus, the humans wouldn't be able to visit until the strong odor dissipated, and 'Sideswipe wouldn't want to be confronted with a wall of fumes every time he left/entered the ark, now would he?' Grumbling, the metal warrior admitted the fleshy child was right.

Together, Spike and Sideswipe managed to 'cover' about three-fourths of the 'damaged' section, when Huffer wandered by. The mech, normally emotionless, took one glance at a metal plate neither individual had managed to clean up and promptly gasped. " . . . . " He spoke in Cybertron, which Spike couldn't understand. While the human was able to grasp a word here or there, Huffer was speaking too quickly for him to decipher what was being said. However, he did catch that Huffer was beyond shocked, he was outraged, and from where the typically quite bot was staring, Spike figured the walls were disfigured in some way.

Sideswipe dropped the minuscule paintbrush from his hand and rushed towards where Huffer was quickly approaching the human. Spike wanted to jump out of the way, but one side held buckets of used paint-stripper (discolored by the orange paint being pealed from the wall), and the other was a wet-paint encrusted wall. Before Spike could move, another bot approached, this time from the opposite direction.

Huffer regained some composure. Before the security director could 'ask' what was wrong, Huffer pointed towards Spike and demanded, "Did you see this?"

Red Alert took one menacing glance at the human (or perhaps at the wall behind the human. With soul piercing optics and a hard gaze that demanded absolute truth, no lies, deceptions, half-truths, or white-coating allowed, it was hard to be sure exactly what Red saw). The flashing lights on the sides of Red's helm (where ears would be positioned if the poor bot was a human), pulsed white, and the blue crackles of energy increased in density. Red Alert began sputtering. "Human paint? On the walls? What's wrong with our decoration? Is this a plot to see if I can tell the difference?"

Spike could tell when Red noticed his companion.

"Sideswipe!" Red Alert bellowed. "Are you trying to give me a processor ache?" The ears were still pulsing, strongly, but the blue tinge was fading. Red lifted a hand and rubbed at his forehead. "I take it you have the situation on hand?" Huffer gapped, while Sideswipe nodded mutely. "Good. Don't let humans decorate our home." Red's appearance softened as he looked at the kid. "No offense, Spike."

Spike shrugged, still holding a wet-paint brush. "No worries. Dad doesn't like guests giving decorating tips, and he really hates it when a guest takes it upon him or herself to repaint without permission." He brushed the bristles against the orange-paint and frowned. "I'm not seeing a difference, to be honest, but if it means so much to Sides and Sunny, I'll help out." Spike's eyes widened. "I mean, not with pranks or anything, nor their punishment, but important stuff."

Red held out a hand, while Sideswipe put-on an offended face. Huffer was still shell-shocked in the background. "Yes, yes, yes. Carry on." Turning back to Huffer, Red glared and practically dragged Huffer out of the way.

Spike shuddered dramatically. "Is that why you didn't want Red seeing the wall?"

Sideswipe picked up a half-full plastic throwaway flat pan. "Sort of." He tossed the liquid on the wall, and began scrubbing with a polishing cloth. "Could have been worse, if Red had frozen, but he still might increase security on the Ark and make it harder for you and your father to visit, for a while."

Spike resumed wiping the paint-stripper on the wall. "How bad could it get?"

Sideswipe was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, "You don't want to know."

There were no more interruptions while the two worked at removing the human-based paint off the wall. Spike reached the end of his row, and groaned as he stood up, rubbing his back. Sideswipe looked up, very concerned. "Hey, you okay?"

Spike smiled, nodded. "Yep. I'm fine."

"But you were acting funny."

"Eh, don't worry about it." Spike waved a hand, dismissing the offer of help. "Just trying something out."

"What about the groan and " Sideswipe tried reaching behind him to reach the lower back strut.

"Just massaging my back. Dad and others do it when they crouch or squat for a while. Wanted to see if it really relaxes the muscles."

"What did you find out?"

Spike rolled a shoulder back. "Does help a bit, but feels weird." He gestured towards the scattered cans, pans, brushes, and rags. "Need help cleaning up, Sides?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. I've got it covered." Sideswipe examined the wrist of his left arm. "Want a ride back? Your dad should be home soon."

Spike blinked, looked at his watch (taken off and put 'away' where the inner mechanism would not get fouled up with the paint-stripper), and squawked in alarm. "Yikes! It is late. Yes please."

Sideswipe stepped away from the wall, shifted form, allowed Spike to get in the passenger seat, and took off, quickly accelerating to one-hundred miles an hour before slamming on his breaks. "Take care, kid."

Spike rushed into the house, mumbling a 'Thanks' and 'You're welcome' while dashing inside. He heard, but did not see the red warrior take off as he jumped into the shower, needing to strip the paint-stripping smell off his skin and cloths before his dad could catch a whiff of the distinctive scent. He frowned, wondering what exactly the bots saw, that he and his dad missed when they looked at the walls.


End file.
